Diluted Eyes
by Lily Finch
Summary: AU. Harry is fifteen and the war is at its peak. Voldemort has chosen Hary as his heir, but something's wrong. Those that have escaped Voldemort have reported odd things about the supposed right hand of the dark lord. The pieces don't fit.


_Woot! I'm actually posting one. This is my first story so tell me what you think. By the way, no matter what I wrote in the disclaimer this particular story is not slash._

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter. If I did, Sirius would be alive and living in a cozy house with Remus.

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**Diluted Eyes**

**Introduction **(that means I couldn't think of a name)

There are only a few places deemed 'protected' in the wizarding world. One is Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The building is controlled by goblins (quite the unfriendly sort) and its vaults are hidden deep underground with the numerous twisting tunnels. Another is Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school's headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, is known for defeating the Dark Lord Grindelwald and is the only man Lord Voldemort fears. The last place is the Ministry of Magic.

The Ministry's vast network of departments and its sheer power makes it the light and hope of many in the wizarding world. It is the staple of Wizarding society; it keeps the gears turning. Within the Ministry's confines are all known powerful magical relics (and a few unknown ones), being kept safe from the public and the war while researchers, called Unspeakables, try to uncover their secrets.

All in all, the ministry had a fairly relaxed air. Even now with the war hitting its nineteenth year, the place gave off an air of confidence and content. I mean, who would ever believe that Voldemort would be cocky enough to directly attack the ministry? Minister Fudge, himself, has been claiming for years that Voldemort was losing his advantage.

Just _who_ elected that guy?

……………………………………………………..

Five figures, dressed in heavy black robes confidently stalked down the deserted corridors of the Ministry of Magic. They were an impressive site; four white masked men flanking a slight teen. He wore black like his companions, but the resemblance ended there. His robe was tighter, less flowing; slits on down both legs making it easier to move. He wore a dueler's wand holster on each arm, causing only a slight bulge under his clothing. Also hidden under his clothes, strapped firmly to his back, was a traditional broad sword. It could have been mistaken for Godric Gryffindor's legendary weapon if it weren't for the dark evergreen hilt and the twin snakes running down the length. What made him really stand out from those behind him was his face. He was not masked. It seemed as though his face was one malicious shadow; obscuring his features.

The five walked right past the open doors of the Ministry's offices as they searched through the Department of Magical Artifacts. They had nothing to fear; it was night and all remaining ministry workers were in the Atrium, trying to hold back a legion of Death Eaters until reinforcements arrived fresh from bed. In fact, the only ones to know that five Death Eaters had slipped through the chaos and into the unprotected halls were two of the guards on the graveyard shift. They had unfortunately fallen asleep before the action had started and their cold bodies were still sitting at their post.

Stepping into the previously locked door to the 'questionable trinkets' storage room, the five figures split up. They ignored the thunderous footsteps and shouting above and concentrated on finding what their master was desperate enough to obtain as to risk so many of their number for a distraction.

Shuffling through the items on a rickety shelf, one of the Death Eaters shoved an obstructing piece of pottery out of the way. It fell to the ground with a deafening crash, causing all to whip towards the noise, wands raised.

The teen took one look at the broken vase and furiously whispered, "Avada Kedavra." The man slumped to the floor.

Addressing the remaining three he said in the same quite voice, "Take this as a warning; I will not tolerate fools who threaten our lord's mission. Understood?"

Not wishing to further anger the powerful boy, they nodded.

"Good." The boy went back to the shelf and continued searching.

The four worked silently for a couple more minutes before a sharp pain in their left wrist distracted them. The most courageous of the three stepped up to their master's heir. "Sir, that was the signal; our forces are retreating. If we stay much longer we will be captured."

Turning his attention to the masked man, the teen softly asked, "How much has been searched through, Nott?"

Nott glanced back at his companions before answering. "Three fourths, sir."

Muttering curses under his breath, the teen thought for a moment. His mutterings scared the three Death Eaters more than his remorseless killing; the teen was a very controlled person, not one to show any emotion, even anger. Coming to a decision he fixed his hidden eyes upon the three nervous Death Eaters. "Our Lord desires the amulet and we _will_ give it to him. Summon bags and empty the remaining shelves." Noting their reluctance, he added tersely in his oddly soft voice, "Get back to work…NOW."

Running footsteps down the hall alerted them that time was up. Closing their bags and shrinking them, they all dug into their pockets and pulled out a portkey. After the three disappeared, the short teen raised his wand to cast the darkmark when he noticed a small bundle of cloth that the others had missed. As quick as lightning he grabbed the bundle and shoved it absently into his pocket. The footsteps were getting closer now and the teen could definitely tell they belonged to aurors. Casting mors mordre, the teen activated his portkey a second after the door burst open and the group of aurors stormed in.

The aurors just caught a glimpse of the teen before he left, but it was enough. Growling in frustration, a tall, black haired man yelled, "Dammit, Harry escaped again!"

Another auror laid a sympathetic hand on the angered man's shoulder. "Don't worry Black, we'll get Potter soon. Then we'll dump him in Azkaban and party into the next week."

Smiling sadly at the other man, Sirius replied, more to himself than the other man, "I don't think I'll be joining you."

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_Okay, the intro is down! DON'T WORRY, THIS IS NOT ANOTHER HARRY IS THE HEIR OF VOLDEMORT, THEN THE HARRY FROM OUT UNIVERSE COMES AND SCREWS EVERYTHING UP. In fact there is no cross dimensions at all. This is very simply…an AU. Please review, it's my substitute for caffeine. _


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